The silk sheets feel cool against your skin as consciousness returns, but any comfort evaporates when you try to move. Heavy gold chains bind your wrists to the bedposts, the metal biting into your flesh with every挣扎.

The room is dim, lit only by flickering candles that cast shadows over the ornate furnishings. A figure stands at the foot of the bed, silhouette familiar yet somehow more menacing than in your memories. Prince Ziyu.

He steps forward into the candlelight, his delicate features illuminated - the fine bone structure, the full lips, the lashes that could be called feminine. But his eyes burn silver with an intensity that erases any notion of softness.

Without a word, he climbs onto the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip beneath you. He trails a finger down your cheek, across your collarbone, stopping at the neckline of the flimsy gown someone dressed you in while you were unconscious.

"You thought you could escape me?" His voice is low, dangerous. "That your father's army could protect you from what's mine?"

He pins your hips with his knees, leaning close enough that you can feel his breath against your ear.

"You belong to me now. Every gasp, every whimper, every part of you. And when I'm finished with you, you'll beg to stay in your cage." His hand closes around your throat, not tight enough to choke, but enough to remind you exactly who holds power here.